


Old Magic

by demoka



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Hocus Pocus
Genre: AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-11
Updated: 2012-06-11
Packaged: 2017-11-07 12:11:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demoka/pseuds/demoka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter/Hocus Pocus. When an unknowing Hermione discovers an old house, she accidentally releases powerful old magic from long, long ago. Very AU & Hermione is of age (it's implied any way). This fic is kinda dark and contains witchy smut.  Just so you know. Non-con, maybe dub-con. Why didn't Hermione just use lumos?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Magic

‘Ah… We are home!’

Hermione Granger is a virgin, and for some reason that’s significant. Hermione Granger is a stupid airhead of a virgin who should have thought twice about lighting strange candles. Hermione Granger wishes that she had given into Ron’s pleas for sex on the night before Harry vanquished Lord Voldemort and then perhaps she wouldn’t be in this mess. Hermione Granger is also wondering why she was out wandering the woods during Halloween. Or rather, All Hallows Night. Maybe those history books were telling the complete truth after all.

Too late to regret that now. Hermione gulped as she stood wide eyed in front of three menacing women. Hermione’s grip on her wand was as tight as it had been when she rode Buckbeak. She’d rather be there again than in this situation. They didn’t appear to have wands, but then again, you didn’t know with magical looking women who appeared out of nowhere with no warning. They didn’t apparate because she did not hear a crack and she was pretty sure she didn’t see a portkey light. The fire place couldn’t be a working nor registered as part of the Floo since it was in the middle of the room. Either they were extremely powerful witches or… Or… Hermione had no idea. She had never encountered anything like this in her extensive studies in Hogwarts library.

Then again, she WAS in the United States of America at this very moment, in a small little place called Salem. Sure she had heard all the Muggle superstitions about Salem and Transylvania, but as far as the Wizarding World knew, vampires were a dead race (no pun intended) and no witches were ever recorded to have lived in Salem. She flinched as the redhead finally addressed her, ‘Greetings Little Virgin.’

‘Hi little virgin! Pretty little thing, may I play with her?’ chirruped the blonde, waving a hand very childishly.

‘No!’ snapped the redhead.

The brunette was eyeing her curiously, sniffing the air, ‘She’s well filled out, Sisters! Mm, but only just barely a child, she’ll be a woman soon.’

To Hermione’s shock, the said brunette lunged over at her and the tense Hermione did only what was her last reflex. It was the last spell she had cast during the war; she whipped up her wand and yelled, ‘Avada Kedavra!’

The two other sisters screamed in horror as their sister fell from midair to the ground, eyes wide and fingers still outstretched. Hermione stared in shock. That was the second time she had killed a person. Her first had been, thankfully a death eater, but still, she had used the Killing Curse. Rodolphus Lestrange had lain at her feet, evil sneer etched into his features.

‘Oh my god… I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!’ cried Hermione, falling to the floor and dropping her wand.

The blonde rushed over to the fallen body, ‘Mary! Mary! Wake up Mary!’

‘Thou little wretch!’ screamed the redhead, sending electrical waves towards Hermione.

Hermione yelled in pain as the electricity raced through her body and lifted her up. She spluttered as she was slammed into the wall, body crumpling as she was released. The pain was so great she was dazed and unable to do much but blink rapidly trying to clear her head.

‘Winnie! Winnie! Mary won’t wake up! Make her wake up Winnie!’ cried the blonde.

‘Don’t bother Sarah. There’s nothing we can do for Mary. Unless…’ began Winnie, as Hermione believed was her name.

‘Unless what?’ asked the Sarah, still shaking the limp form of Mary.

‘No, she’s not decomposed enough to be a zombie and even then, a zombie Mary just wouldn’t be the same, now would it?’ calmly explained Winnie, though obviously furious about her sister’s untimely death.

Hermione could barely hear the mutter of regret in Winnie’s voice. Something about if only she had cast other spells. Spells? They really were witches then! Hermione let out a groan as she tried to sit up. Winnie spun around to glare at her, zapping her again, lifting her to her feet, face to face in close proximity. Winnie’s fiery curls were coming out in strands, making her look as mad as Bellatrix Lestrange once did. However, Bellatrix would never have had the bright red of Winnie’s hair. Winnie’s buckteeth further pronounced her red lips, and she sneered as she spoke softly, but dangerously so, ‘For killing our sister, thou shalt live out the rest of thy life as a slave. Our slave.’

‘Slave, slave, slave! Our slave! Out little virgin slave!’ sang Sarah, leaping about.

Hermione barely could remain conscious from the onslaught of electricity in her system. Only as she realised that Winnie had locked her in a cage, did she allow herself to pass out.Sarah shoved a stick up several times into Hermione’s side. It was her way of temporarily punishing their captive. She yelped as she followed her sister’s harsh bark to prepare their sister’s burial.

 

\-----

 

Sarah knew she should still be sad for their late sister, but she was so excited about Winnie keeping a pet, a slave. She had felt so aroused when she watched Winnie zap their new pet. She wondered if Winnie would let her play with their new pet. For comfort, she searched for her lucky rat’s tail, cackling triumphantly as she felt it and grasped it and drew it from its hiding place.She cradled it as she watched Winnie cooing over her book, lamenting her inability to save Mary.

‘Winnie? Does that mean we aren’t going to suck the life out of her?’ asked Sarah, so innocently as if she were asking for some ice cream.

‘No, Sarah. We are not. But thou shalt take to the sky and bring some little brats to die. I will brew the potion while thou art luring them here. Out on thy broom. Now!’ snapped Winnie.

Sarah retrieved her broom and flew into the night, singing sweetly and clearly, casting a trance upon the children within hearing range. Winnie brought Hermione back into consciousness, intending to interrogate.

‘Wake up thou little wretch. What is thy name?’ demanded Winnie, pinching Hermione’s cheek through the bars of her cage, lowered to face level.

Hermione yelped, but managed to reply, ‘Hermione Granger! May I know yours?’

‘Thou shalt know it. I am Winifred Sanderson, but thou shalt address me as Mistress Winifred,’ commanded Winifred, a threat left unsaid by her tone.

Hermione, despite her instincts, ventured at a question, ‘Why?’

Winifred’s eyes widened in anger and she dragged Hermione out of her cramped cage and flung her into the wall once more and pinning her to it with her own body, one hand grasping her throat. ‘Forget my title and forget thy place again, and I shall eat you after all!’

Hermione choked over her words, fearful of what they entailed, ‘P-please, M-Mistress W-W-W-Winifred. Why aren’t you going to… eat me?’

‘I would rather eat the lives of young children to sustain my youth and employ your body for mine own pleasure, my pet,’ explained Winifred, smirking at Hermione’s flinch from her nails trailing down her face, neck and stopped momentarily at her chest.

‘Please, M-Mistress Winifred, another question?’ begged Hermione, unable to contain her curiosity.

Winifred let out an exasperated sigh, but nodded, ‘I have a feeling thou wilt ask many.’

‘Mistress Winifred, please I beg of you. Don’t hurt any children. Please?’ asked Hermione softly, sobbing occasionally, finally understanding the words of Sarah’s song.

‘Foolish pet. I need the life of children to keep me youthful. Beg all thou want, but it shalln’t sway me,’ explained Winifred wearily.

Hermione tried another method, ‘But… But Mistress Winifred, you don’t need their lives. You are beautiful.’

Hermione felt a moment of elation as Winifred appeared shocked. Pleasantly so, but her expression soon turned to an evil grin, ‘Mm… Pet, I’d thank thou for that, but I doubt thou meant it.’

Hermione yelped as she felt her blouse fray apart to reveal her bra, ‘Wha…?’

Winifred silenced her with a demanding kiss, dropping one hand to caress one of Hermione’s thighs. Hermione cried out into Winifred’s mouth, more realisation dawning on her. Winifred grinned as she felt Hermione sag. Winifred stepped away, only to say, ‘On the bed, Pet.’

Hermione just stared at her in disbelief and was punished for it. Winifred frowned before zapping Hermione to the bed roughly. Hermione landed on the bed with her back against the wall, and then Winifred straddled her stiffened form. Hermione’s chest was heaving, she was near hyperventilating. What did this witch expect her to do? Didn’t they already establish that she was a virgin?

‘I’m sorry M-Mistress W-Winifred, I-I don’t know what to do!’ exclaimed Hermione.

Winifred just smirked at her, and the leaned in close to nibble her ear, ‘Thou shalt learn soon enough.’

Sarah burst through the door, announcing her arrival by singing, ‘Here I am! Here I am! Winnie! They’re here!’

‘Damn that girl and her timing,’ muttered Winifred, lifting herself off Hermione daintily.

 

\-----

 

Hermione was forced to watch in horror as the two remaining sisters brewed a large cauldron full of green, smoking liquid. In total, Sarah had lured 10 children, or varying ages. One by one, Winifred and Sarah fed them the foul, yet sweet smelling liquid and proceeded to suck their lives from them. When the pile of small bodies reached half way, Hermione couldn’t hold it in anymore and let her dinner purge itself from behind bars on to the floor.

Winifred didn’t even look over in Hermione’s direction, simply commanding Sarah to open the door and then she flicked a spark at the regurgitation and sent it outside. Hermione blearily watched it fly. Somehow it was amusing. Suddenly she realised that Sarah was staring at her, in such a way that made her uncomfortable. Sarah had a similar look in her eye that Winifred had earlier, but her smile was very innocent, much like Luna’s to Hermione’s despair. Sarah winked at her and wiggled her hips before flouncing back over to share another child with her older sister.

With the last child slumping over, Hermione blinked out a tear but was unable to wipe it away. She didn’t want to cry outright, it would probably amuse them. She gasped as she felt fingers pinching her bum from between the bars.

'Sarah! Go open the trap door to the drop tunnel!’ barked Winifred, slapping her sister’s hand away.

Sarah pouted but did as she was told and watched in amazement as Winifred sent the bodies flying into the vast tunnel. She giggled with glee as she shut the door when it was finished. She always did take pleasure in watching Winifred casting spells, either verbally or otherwise.

‘Oh Winnie, thou art so perfect! Oh Winnie! You’ve made us so young and beautiful!’ sang Sarah happily, dancing about and giving Winnie a quick hug. Winnie waved her away, mildly flattered.

Really, Winifred was worried about her youngest sister, not quite reacting to Mary’s death as she had expected. Well, they could relax now, no longer needing to worry about the sun rising in the morning. They had fulfilled the curse and thus were… younger. Despite her sister’s airheadedness, they all loved each other as sisters would, even evil sisters cared for each other. They had to, no one else did. Even when Sarah sported with her Billy, she didn’t blame Sarah. She blamed him. He knew better. Sarah would never understand. Sarah was much prettier than her older sisters, but she adored Winifred. Adored her so much that she never held a grudge for all the berating and freely given slaps and the occasional elbow.

Winifred settled down in her bed upstairs, deciding to play with her new pet tomorrow. Winifred blinked in surprise as she felt someone climb into her bed, encircling her in a desperate hug. Winifred turned to find Sarah’s tear stained face gazing at her pathetically, ‘Please Winnie. Let me sleep with you tonight? I miss Mary.’

‘Silly girl,’ murmured Winnie affectionately, wrapping her own arms around Sarah.

Sarah sniffled, burying her face into Winifred’s emerald dress gratefully.

 

\-----

 

Hermione sighed, grasping at the bars of her cage uselessly, pretending she could crush them into dust. She wasn’t able to sleep as the sisters were able to. Her position hardly allowed for comfort and she wondered if that was why Winifred left her like that or if it was because it was the only enclosure they had. Hermione doubted it was the latter; Winifred seemed powerful enough to conjure anything she wanted. Or at least use her dreadful book if not from memory. She stared aimlessly at the foggy window to her right, and to her immense shock, she heard a very strange sound. It was a cross between a moan and a sigh. Hermione’s ears perked up. One of them having a nightmare? She could glean some information from that. However, Winifred’s voice clearly conveyed what was going on as she drawled, ‘Thy tongue is marrrrvelousss, Sarah.’

‘Wuh…?’ came Hermione’s unintelligible reaction.

She heard a hiss and another moan, this time elongated and higher pitched. She’d swear the upper floor was creaking, or was that the bed they undoubtedly were both in? In any case, dust was drifting to the lower level, some of which floated into Hermione’s eye. She blinked desperately to rid herself of possible irritation. She soon heard what sounded like somewhat pained groaning, and then also Sarah’s giggle of, ‘Oh Winnie.’

Hermione felt overheated and she was sure that she shouldn’t be able to hear them, yet they didn’t seem to care. Wait, weren’t they sisters? Perhaps that rumour she heard about Purebloods was truthful after all. These two had to be Pureblood if anything and they were surely ancient if their life sucking magic was anything to go by. In her musings Hermione had a vision of Bellatrix and Narcissa drift into her head. Their bodies were entwined and… Hermione shook her head violently, hitting the bars, ‘Ow!’

She gaped at herself. Why am I thinking about such things? Hermione easily blamed it on her captors. Her logical mind often took things and led her on trails of thinking. However in this case, she wondered just how normal this train of thought was. Not very if society was a yardstick to go by. So wrapped up in troublesome thoughts, Hermione didn’t even realise that she had been released from the cage. It wasn’t until she was zapped on to the floor did she look up into the amused expressions of both Sanderson sisters.

‘Please, please Winnie! Can I hang her up on a hook and play with her?’ begged Sarah, tugging at Winifred’s sleeve.

‘No!’ gasped Hermione, but was ignored.

Winifred seemed to be in a better mood after their activities and nodded wearily, ‘Oh fine.’

Sarah cheered and danced about gathering ropes. Hermione quickly got to her feet and noticed Sarah look pointedly at Winifred. Before Hermione could protest Winifred zapped her against the wall, painfully.

‘Ooh, I LOVE it when she does that! Dost thou love it too?’ chirped Sarah, body splayed against Hermione’s as she tied her hands together, stringing them on an overhanging hook, drawing Hermione away from the wall.

‘M-Mistress Winifred! Please, no?’ asked Hermione softly, only able to tiptoe.

‘Did I not tell you thy role? Thou shalt amuse my sister also,’ stated Winifred simply, sitting in a comfy chair flipping through Book.

Hermione let out a defeated cry as Sarah grabbed her from behind, grasping her breasts mercilessly, ‘Oh, Winnie! They’re so… soft! And perfect for squeezing!’

‘Squeezing, squeezing, squeezing!’ exclaimed Sarah, punctuating each word with a grope of Hermione’s arse.

Hermione couldn’t help but squirm, this seemed to excite Sarah further and as Hermione noticed in her peripheral vision, Winifred had stopped reading her book and was paying attention to her torment. Winifred could see her pleading eyes, but instead of remorse, Hermione found lust and intrigue in the redhead’s pupils. Leaning back, Winifred casually spread her robes. Hermione couldn’t tear her eyes away. Winifred had her gaze locked while slim, long nailed fingers made their way under her robes.

Sarah momentarily stared at Winifred’s self ministrations before she giggled again and yanked Hermione’s open blouse off. She removed Hermione’s bra also, but slowly, most likely teasing her older sister. She grinned and flicked Hermione’s bra back at Hermione’s bared flesh. She fluttered her eye lids as Hermione let out a moan. Sarah swayed on her feet, drawing her rat’s tail from her robes and slid it along Hermione’s stomach, drawing a shiver from the young woman.

Sarah watched Winifred’s hand movement and whipped Hermione’s breast each time it made a full revolution. Hermione’s gasps of pain seemed to further fuel Winifred’s desire, her hips jumped into her busy hand, while the other grasped the armrest so tight her knuckles were white. Hermione gritted her teeth as Sarah moved on to whipping her thighs; however the jeans lessened the pain.

‘Sarah. Take off her pants,’ croaked Winifred breathily.

Sarah complied with glee but found trouble with the button. Within a few seconds Winifred zapped the button to smithereens. Sarah pranced over to kiss her deeply, nipping Winifred’s upper lip then returned to undressing Hermione. Sarah smiled to herself as she was able to undo Hermione’s fly with ease. She tugged Hermione’s jeans down roughly, causing Hermione to groan in complaint about the pressure on her wrists.

‘Enough!’ barked Winifred, chest heaving, she broke her visual connection with her victim.

Sarah turned to look at her older sister in dismay but complied when Winifred commanded her to release Hermione. Sarah’s pouting caused Winifred to mutter in exasperation. Winifred rolled her eyes and drew Sarah in for a tongue battle. Sarah cooed in reply, happily reciprocating. Finally breaking apart, Winifred fixed her attention on Hermione once more. She drew her hands forward and Hermione wriggled desperately to avoid her green sparks, but to no avail and was promptly and painfully transported to the bed upstairs.

Winifred walked up the stairs gracefully, hips swaying in a way that confused Hermione. Why bother being seductive to your captive? Sarah, on the other hand, bounded up the stairs giggling as girlishly as ever. Sarah grasped Hermione’s hips and leapt on, rubbing her soaking cunt against Hermione’s underwear, delighting very vocally at the friction. Winifred merely rolled her eyes again but slid her hand across her sister’s head lovingly as she made her way to Hermione’s face.

Wide eyed, Hermione watched in dismay as Winifred lent over and whispered into her ear, ‘Time for thy training, Pet. Understand?’

Hermione nodded, not knowing how else to respond. However Winifred’s raised brow cued her into the right response. Hurriedly she apologized, ‘I’m sorry Mistress Winifred! Yes, I understand, Mistress Winifred.’

‘Oh Winnie, thou have such a well trained Pet already! Mm, it’s feels so good!’ babbled Sarah, still thrusting her hips.

Winifred tutted but sat herself on Hermione’s fear stricken face. Sarah bounced excitedly and gave Hermione advice, ‘Lick her! Lick, lick, lick her, Little Virgin!’

With that enthusiastic encouragement combined with the intoxicatingly musky scent of Winifred’s arousal, Hermione dove in, not wanting to disappoint her Mistress and risk more pain. Winifred began to move her hips and moaned happily, hands yanking Hermione’s hair agonizingly.

Sarah giggled, turned on by the sight of Hermione’s hands reaching up to grasp a better hold on Winifred’s hips.

 

\-----

 

Hermione didn’t know how many days let alone nights had passed by since she had lit that god forsaken candle. Each day she cursed herself for being so foolish, but thanked each day that revealed Winifred and Sarah to want to partake in pleasurable activities. Hermione was no longer forced to stay laying down nor hung on a hook or strapped to a wall. She had earned the freedom to move once Winifred had determined she would indeed not run away.

Hermione just hoped that they would never consider forcing her to take the same potion that kept them youthful. If that day ever came, Hermione was sure she would bite her tongue off.

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic. I disclaim everything.


End file.
